Seduction Within Love
by NicoleMuenchSeidel
Summary: Starts 3 days before Skin Deep. What if Rumple had dreams of Belle before they met? What if Belle had more to fear in Avonlea than the ogres? This will be a different deal. I'm rating this a T Plus for some racy moments in the 1st chapter & in much later chapters, but most will be a standard T. This is not a plot what plot story & like RumBelle, there's more here than meets the eye
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I've had this story floating around my brain for several months and finally decided to write it...even though I have other stories on the go. Love is the greatest seducer of all, and RumBelle is going to learn that in this story. I'm rating this story T plus. If you really want to avoid anything racy in this chapter, skip the large sections of italic type in the first third of this chapter, before we get to Belle in Avonlea. That said, I like how the racy stuff turned out, and it is not as racy as an M rated fic, in my opinion.  
**

**********This is written with great respect, love and gratitude for the talents of Robert Carlyle, Emilie de Ravin, all those involved in Once Upon A Time. I do not own the OUAT characters.  
**

* * *

_The mid-morning sun streams into Rumplestiltskin's bedchamber. His serpentine curled hair hangs down as he gazes hungrily at the porcelain skinned beauty beneath him. Her dark chestnut hair is strewn haphazardly across the pillow, her full lips call to him like ripened fruit begging to be tasted, but of all her stunning features, none can compare to her eyes. Her iolite blue eyes seem to sparkle in the radiance of the cascading sun, yet there is something more there, a deluge of emotion. He is keenly aware that no woman has ever before looked at him in such a way. Her eyes are like a kaleidoscope of feelings, expressing things that tie him to her; desire, adoration, trust, devotion..._

_He is frozen in the moment until he hears a breathless whimper escape her lips, "Rumple, it's not nice to toy with me like this."_

_A wicked grin forms revealing his blacked and gnarled teeth, as the sun reflected from her skin seems to refract his own greenish gold flesh that is the texture of sand, "Whoever implied that I was nice?"_

_He stares deeply into her eyes as his hand with long dark nails slides teasingly up her ribcage, eliciting throaty laughter from her that makes his senses reel. _

_She rakes her delicate hand into his mop of hair, as she implores, "Please, I need you. You know I need you. Give me what I need.", and pulls his head down until his neck is within reach of her mouth. _

_Her tongue drags across the textured skin as he growls in her ear as they move. United as though they fill each other's veins, they call to each other with unintelligible sounds. They wear each other like hand in glove, entwined, enticed, enthralled and enamored, and then finally enveloped by bliss. _

Rumplestiltskin slowly awakens from his dream, his body tingling with electric pulses and the blanket before him tented. He cannot recall the last time he has had that type of dream. Usually, his sleep is tormented by nightmares of his son, Baelfire, falling through the portal into another realm after Rumplestiltskin had let go of his son's hand. No, he does not have erotic dreams...not anymore. Women have only caused pain and destruction in his life. But _that woman_, such a woman could never exist. Surely his imagination conjured such celestial being. No woman could want him like that. Her eyes set his soul on fire encasing him in love. Stunned he thinks, _"Love?! Now, that's ludicrous, indeed! Lust; maybe, in some wild fantasy, but even in a dream, no one could ever love me."_

With his forehead crinkled, looking curiously at the protrusion in the blanket, he decides _that_ will need to be dealt with before he can begin his day. With a lopsided smile, he embraces the gift his imagination bestowed upon him.

* * *

Throughout the day, whether potion making, spinning or plotting his next move to find Baelfire, he can see and feel her eyes upon him, and he finds himself humming a strange, gleeful tune. He enjoys this feeling while he can, for he knows that tonight as he sleeps he will be once again visited by the regrets of his failings as a father and a man.

_Lying on his back in his bed with traces of ambient light illuminating the room, a silhouette of a woman can be seen straddling him. Moonlight dances across her lush mane and highlights the exquisite features of her face. Every other feature is obscured in shadow, yet her stance and form in this moment reminds him of a wolf baying at the moon. She is a force of nature astride him with her hands gripping his shoulders. In the haze of pleasure, he loses track of her actions as she giggles mischievously...suddenly Rumplestiltskin realizes she has something in her mouth...the handle of a __**feather duster**_**_! _**

Rumplestiltskin awakens with his heart pounding and his clothing wet from bodily secretions. He growls frustratedly, leaping from the bed, tearing away his soiled night garments as purple magic engulfs him leaving him in his typical daytime attire, silk shirt, rigid brocade jerkin and leather pants. The sun is not yet up, but he has much work to do.

* * *

Certain that this phantom of a woman must be of magical origin plotted by his enemies to drive him to his wits end. He scours every magical tome he can find, and scries all the possible suspects of such an insidious plan. As he does so, images of the _obviously_ fictitious siren bombard his mind. He works frantically through the day and well into the night without stopping often mumbling..."You can't fool me, dearie! I'll find you! Whoever conjured this phantom will be severely punished...I promise!" As exhaustion begins to take over, realizing that he is driven to distraction, he takes another tact. Going to bed with fierce determination, he decides to focus on Baelfire, only Baelfire and the siren will be banished from his mind.

_In a large ornate bathing room adjacent to his bedchamber, a spacious brass tub is filled with steaming water laden with scented oils from far off lands as soap bubbles froth the surface. Facing each other, Rumplestiltskin and the dark haired woman sit in the tub. The wet ringlets of her hair spiral down her shoulders as she nibbles his neck. He breathes in excitedly at her attentiveness to his pulse point._

_Her fingers comb through his wet straggly hair, leaning back to see his face as she sighs, "How much longer can we in stay here?"_

_"I could stay all day..." and then holding up her hand for inspection, "however, you my dear, are another question entirely. Your dainty digits are already puckered." as his teeth playfully nip the tips of her fingers._

_"I can make the sacrifice, if you can.", she smirks, and then adds, "Although, we could move our activities to a drier location. Our bed will suffice." A look of unbridled adoration claims her expression as she strokes his lips with the fingers he had just nipped and her other hand massages the base of his neck. Tenderly she says, "All I want is you, Rumple. It matters not, where or how...just you. If you wanted to live in a hut and herd sheep, it would be quite fine with me, as long as I get to have you."_

_She buries her face into his neck embracing him tightly, and as he strokes her back, he rasps out in a voice full of awe, "Gods, I love you!"_

"NOOOOOOO!", Rumplestiltskin screams as his eyes fly wide open. "No, no, no! This can't happen! I will not allow it!"

He paces his room as the sun begins to crest over the mountain peaks. "It's merely carnal desire. That's all it is. Love is not an option." The nagging realization claims him as he considers that the woman from his dreams may very well be real. "No, I don't love her...I won't love her...it's just lust. Lust...plain and simple." He concentrates trying to obliterate thoughts of her soft smiles and her tender eyes. Too much time has already been lost in the distraction of mere lust...and nothing more. He commits himself to go about his day without a thought of _her_.

* * *

His day is like an endless torture of her voice, eyes and touch. Over breakfast, he sees her smiling knowingly, wearing a blue dress that brings out the color of her eyes, as she gazes at him across the table, sipping tea. Later while dealing with Regina, he hears _her_ scream out his name in ecstasy! He suddenly releases a bolt of magic scorching the table in the grand hall. When Regina looks at him with curious amusement, he claims that he never liked the finish of the table anyway, and her constant yammering about Snow White has tried his patience. Thankfully, the table stands between him and Regina, because the siren call of ecstasy has caused an excitement that would be apparent should she get a view below his waist. Thinking agitatedly, _"I don't need Regina thinking she caused this. I have enough headaches."_

By midday, an idea that, even in his twisted mind, seems insane has begun to form. If she is indeed real, he must have her. She will serve as _therapy_ to help him concentrate on important things again. _"But how?"_ He would never take a woman unwillingly, viewing rapists as the lowest of life forms...not worthy of being considered men. "After all, I may be a monster, but I'm not a pirate." Indeed, what had made her so completely intoxicating in his dreams was the fact that she wanted him...she truly desired him...she even lov... _"No, not __**that**__! That is not possible. Somehow, I must make her lust after me." _He groans,_ "This is insane!"_, as he paces the great hall like a caged animal. Trying to convince himself of the viability of this endeavor, he ponders encouragingly, _"I can do this! There has to be a way...I'll find her, and I'll woo her...somehow."_ Bitterly he thinks sarcastically, _"That's right, with crocodile skin and all, she'll be begging to be in my bed."_ He scrubs his hands across his face and hisses with frustration. He knows he cannot cast a spell on her, for it would still be against her will. He could never do that to a woman, besides he would know the difference between that and the experiences in his dreams. Deciding to take one step at a time, he closes his eyes and uses his mind to search for her...if she does indeed exist.

* * *

In the town of Avonlea, Belle, only child of Sir Maurice, laments the future, staring out the window of her bedchamber. The ogres are bearing down on the town, and the sky has taken a reddish hue. In days, there will be nothing left, and yet, if by some miracle they survive, Belle's future is bleak. The night before, Belle had overheard Sir Gaston, her betrothed, gloating to the other knights of his plans for her in their marriage. She feels ill and panicked at the thought, desperate to get out of this arrangement that she never wanted any part of from the beginning.

Her father wanted the stature that comes with Gaston's familial ties. However, what Belle wants is a life of peace. Ideally, she would have preferred to marry for love, but that is not the way of their world. Women are treated as chattel. She knows she could find peace in a marriage of mutual respect and familial caring, even if she were not in love with her husband, but respect and caring are not in the stars for Gaston and her union..._only brutality_.

She is so lost in her thoughts that she is startled to hear a voice, dripping with disdain, "My pretty little bride-to-be has nothing better to do than stare out the window? I can fix that!"

Even in her corseted emerald gown, the adrenalin in Belle veins propels her to the fireplace grabbing an iron poker. Sternly, trying in her best not to sound intimidated, Belle says, "Gaston, you shouldn't be in here. These are my private quarters, and we are not wed yet."

"Ah, but we will be...and I think a superior knight, such as I, deserves a little _appetizer_ before my feast." He advances on her. His size is ominous, as the top of her head only comes to the height of his shoulder. With brute force, he effortlessly yanks the iron poker from her hand, shoves her against the wall as she struggles to get her bearings. He hisses, "Who is to say, I should not bed you now?", then pressing the iron poker lengthwise across her throat, he continues, "I might even find a use for this!"

Rumplestiltskin snarls as he watches the events unfold. He reminds himself that protocol demands that he cannot intervene unless called. Yet he knows that if this lout progresses in his attempt to take her against her will, he will annihilate the arrogant bastard, _protocol be damned!_

Belle's heart pounds; she wants to cry, yet knows she should not. Crying would only encourage Gaston's violence, of that she is sure. He starts pull at the bodice of her dress as his finger nails scratch her collarbone and upper most swell of her breast. Belle winces from the pain, while trying not to draw attention to the hopeful sight that has entered her vision. A moment later, Gaston howls in pain, as Belle's petite blonde maid and best friend, Clarice, having acquired a second and freshly fired poker, jabs the still burning piece of metal into Gaston's rear, causing him to drop the poker which he had held against Belle's throat. In a flash, Belle grabs the discarded implement, as he turns on Clarice.

"You little bitch!", Gaston glares at Clarice with cold blue eyes.

Undeterred, Clarice, who is several inches shorter than Belle, growls through clenched teeth, "Get out of here Sir Gaston, before I make another hole in your melon head!"

"I'll show you!" he yells, lunging for Clarice, but Belle swings her poker, hitting him square in the back.

He groans in pain, bringing his attention back to Belle, saying in a warning tone, "That was a very stupid move, _wench_! I'll go now, but your _little_ maid won't be able to help you once we're married. And you _will_ pay for every moment of insolence you've given me!"

He runs a hand through his short black hair and straightens the embellished coat of his gray military uniform. Giving Belle one more menacing glare that makes her shiver, he turns on his heel and storms out of her bedchamber.

Clarice says bitterly, "The best part of that swine is that back of him..._as he leaves_."

Clarice turns to Belle, seeing that in the wake of Gaston's departure, she has let her defenses down, seeming broken, she begins to cry. Belle inwardly chastises herself for this display of weakness, yet hopelessness seems to consume her being.

Looking at her dear friend, Belle's voice cracks, "He's right, you know. Once we're married, there will be no one to help me. My life will be worse than Hell.", as she falls into her friend's embrace.

Rumplestiltskin feels as though his heart is in his throat. It takes all the self-control that he can manage, not to suddenly materialize before the two women and wipe away the tears from _his_ angel's cheek.

In a determined tone, Clarice says, "Belle, this isn't like you. We have the answer. Why are you waiting?"

Belle sighs as her brow furrows in thought, "The answer for the town, perhaps, but I'm not sure about me. I don't want to ask too much; _our people need help_. Let me go see my father. Perhaps I can convince him this time."

Clarice looks at Belle grimly, yet nods just the same, as Belle wraps a cream colored shawl around her to hide bruising.

* * *

Making her way to her father's study, she mentally goes through her argument. True, her father was not what one would call kind to her mother, however he was not like Gaston either. She steels herself with the thought that he would never want his only child harmed. Even as she tries to convince herself, Belle is gripped by the knowledge that his sense of family devotion is often a mere façade that he wears in public. Behind closed doors, his indifference to family has always been palpable.

Knocking lightly on his study door, Belle hears Sir Maurice call regally, "Entrer!" Before opening the door, Belle rolls her eyes at the thought of her father putting on airs yet again. As she enters his study, she is struck by the sight of the bookshelves laden heavily with tomes, most of which her father hasn't bothered to read. Noting his fur trimmed cloak, she bitterly recognizes that he and Gaston share the superficial value of appearance. Cupped in his hand is an ornate goblet, that he swirls gently, causing the vintage brandy to splash the inner walls of its crystal vessel.

Upon seeing that his visitor is just Belle, _no one important_, he swills the brandy down in one gulp.

With an icy tinge to his voice he says, "What is it, my girl?"

She mentally groans, '_my girl_', the endearment that he puts on for visitors, usually with false warmth to convince others of his family devotion is now being used with his typical disinterested demeanor. She fumes, how she loathes 'my girl'; equal parts possessiveness and dismissiveness.

Fortifying herself for battle, Belle says determinedly, "Father, I have something urgent to discuss with you."

Annoyed, Maurice replies, "Get on with it. I don't have all day."

Taking a deep breath, she says, "Papa," hoping the endearment will move him, "you have to get me out of this arranged marriage with Gaston. He will hurt me."

He scoffs, "Stop being overly dramatic. He is a _fine_ specimen. The marriage will go forward as planned."

Pushing down an avalanche of emotion, Belle asserts, "I am not being _overly dramatic_. I know he will hurt me, because he already has.", and she opens her shawl to reveal Gaston's red and blackish purple scratch marks and bruising on her alabaster skin.

He raises a disinterested eyebrow and sighs, "If you just do what Gaston tells you, you should have no problems."

She gapes at him as her heart races, "_Father_, how can you say that?! He has threatened to do worse, and I've overheard him talking about me with the other knights. _Please, papa_, I'm scared!"

Slamming his hands on his ostentatious desk, he stalks around to her, snarling, "I have worked too hard to leverage this alliance with Gaston's family to have it undone by your _cowardice!_"

Rumplestiltskin feels his blood boil. _"This man doesn't deserve to have a child! I wonder if my dear lady would mind him being turned into the vermin he is."_

The pain as visible as though he had hit her, Belle says with breathless frustration, "_Cowardice?!_ It is not cowardice to not want a life of beatings or worse! I am your only child! _Why doesn't that matter to you?!_"

Snidely, he replies, "Yes, my only child, and your mother couldn't manage to give me a son. A son could do things I'd be proud of...but we all have to _make do_ with what we get. Maybe you can do better and give Sir Gaston some strapping boys. Then you will have done your duty and fulfilled your destiny as a _woman_." The word 'woman' drips like venom from his tongue.

Pain and anger mix like a vile brew in her veins, as she exclaims, "My duty?! My destiny?! They are more than being Gaston's _broodmare _to produce children he will mistreat. _I will not marry him!_"

In an instant, his hands grip her upper arms painfully tight, "How _dare_ you, think that you can judge how a _man_ is to treat his children?! You _will_ marry Sir Gaston...I don't care if we have to _tie_ you in place to make it happen.._it will happen_! Then you will be his _problem_. **_Now get out!_**", and he shoves her backwards causing her to stumble.

She catches herself to keep from falling. Her father has never struck her, yet it is obvious that one more word from her lips will be met with his hand. She stumbles out of the room, stunned and thinking of the time that her mother had a bruise on her cheek. She staggers hopelessly back to her bedchamber. She had always hoped that his coldness towards her had hidden some affection deep within him, however now it is crystal clear; she means nothing to her father. She never has.

* * *

Clarice waits expectantly for Belle. Seeing Belle's shattered expression, she knows the conversation went as abominably as expected. Clarice wraps her arms around Belle and says matter-of-factly, "Well then, the decisions made. I'll plant the seed and make sure the idea takes root, then we'll summon _him_."

The sight of a desperate soul...Rumplestiltskin has seen it too many times to count in the past three hundred years. This desperate soul will give him what he craves, yet he feels sadness.

Sullenly, Belle says, "I don't like this."

Shaking her head, Clarice replies, "I know; he's the Dark One. We're playing in dangerous territory, but we're out of options, and if anyone can handle the Dark One, I'm betting on you, Belle."

Belle's voice is infused with uncertainty and bitterness as she counters, "I doubt your confidence is well placed. He is something worse than the Dark One. He is a _man_. All men know how to do is hurt, betray and be selfish."

In a mildly indignant tone, Clarice declares, "Not all men."

Shrugging her shoulders, Belle concedes, "Alright, you have the _exception_. But what are the chances that I will find the one other trustworthy man in the realm, and he will be the Dark One. It's laughable. Men don't care who they hurt to get what they want."

Rumplestiltskin's gut twists listening to Belle's depiction of men, and yet, he must admit that many a man has behaved in such a way. A nagging guilt gnaws at him thinking of the times he has behaved similarly in his quest to find Baelfire. He wonders, how can he convince her that he is different, when he is not certain that he is?

Tenderly Clarice chides, "Belle, this isn't like you at all."

Sitting on the bed, staring into the embers of the fireplace, Belle says hopelessly, "_I'm_ not like me. I'm Sir Maurice's daughter and Sir Gaston's bride-to-be; who I am, no longer matters."

Clarice's heart aches for Belle. Whatever her father said to her has devastated Belle in a way nothing else could. Clarice has always detested the man, but never more than this moment. She makes her way to the door. She must convince those with say in sovereign matters that _they_ had the brilliant idea to call upon the Dark One. In their minds, a mere woman could never come up with such an idea to save the town from the ogres, thus she will convince them that the idea their own.

Belle thinks to herself, _"Maybe we should just ask for him to help with the war. Asking him to help me will only increase the price."_ Before she can vocalize the thought, Clarice has left.

* * *

Rumplestiltskin reluctantly pulls himself away from the vision of Belle. He must plan before he is called. Having gotten some insight into how her betroth behaves, Rumplestiltskin is certain if he bargains for her favors, she will agree. Yet the notion holds no glee for him. He questions, _"Why not? All I need her for is physical release. If I treat her well and give her anything a woman could want, perhaps then she will want me as she had in the dream."_ Still his rationalizations won't take root. _"Everyone, it would appear, treats her as an object of little value...but why should that matter to me, I value all my things?"_ He finds he detests himself even more than usual, having even for a moment, considered that exquisite woman a 'thing'._ "Oh Hell! Maybe I'll just give her whatever she wants and leave her in peace. But I'm not that noble...and what if it got out that the Dark One was doing 'charity work'?!"_ Deciding to go forward as planned, he sets about arranging a bedchamber for her to wrap her in comfort.

* * *

By that evening, Belle, having changed out of her damaged dress into a simple blue dress, returns from visiting with the few wounded in the infirmary. There aren't many wounded to tend, because most die long before making it to the infirmary. Upon reaching her bedchamber, Clarice is there waiting with news, "The men will summon him tomorrow morning."

Belle bites her bottom lip and say, "Now or never.", and her brow furrows with an unanswered detail, "What is the proper etiquette for summoning the Dark One? Do we call him Sir Dark One?" Though the question may seem nonsensical given that there are no stories of him being a knight, and yet she does not wish to offend him.

Clarice shrugs her shoulders, "I have no idea."

With her hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side, Belle declares, "We have to think of something respectful to call him...how about Majestic Dark One? That has a nice ring."

From behind them, a high pitched giggle erupts, and as they turn around to see him, Rumplestiltskin says in a chirpy tone, "Sorry, dearies, I have no need for rings."

"You?" is the only word Belle can utter in her state of surprise. He is nothing like she imagined. His appearance is odd...wild shoulder length hair, eyes with extremely large pupils, mangled teeth, long fingernails and glittering skin. He is not that much taller than her, with a slender frame wearing a deep red jerkin, a _ruffled_ golden shirt and leather pants with tall boots. Belle knows she should fear him, yet a certain fascination takes over.

He announces, "Rrrrrumplestiltskin, at your service.", and then graces her with a deep and elegant bow.

Belle instinctively curtsies and stammers out, "Nice to make your acquaintance, Rumplestiltskin sir. I am Belle, and this is my dear friend, Clarice."

He smirks thinking, _"No one thinks it's 'nice' to meet the Dark One."_, and he also notes with curiosity that Belle referred to the blonde woman as her 'dear friend'; not maid.

Clarice chimes in, "Wait, I thought no one knew the Dark One's name."

With a crooked smile, he says, "I know she'll earn it...and as for you, we're all _friends_ here, aren't we?"

Clarice is tempted to make the kind of comment that usually gets her in trouble, but manages to keep it to herself.

He finds the buxom blonde strangely amusing as she looks like she is ready to blurt out something highly inappropriate at any moment. He remembers her ardent defense of Belle against Gaston, and for that, she has his respect.

In at tone mixed with lightness and edge, he chides, "Speak up, dearies, what is it you desire? A new pony for the stables?"

Finding her voice, Belle smooths her skirt and says, "No sir...um Rumplestiltskin. It is our town we seek to protect from the destruction of the ogres. The attacks are getting worse; too many people are suffering and dying. _Children_ are suffering and dying." She is not sure why she felt he would care about children, however something tells her he does.

"Is that all?" he asks.

"Isn't that enough?!" Belle asks a bit indignantly.

"No, no, dear, what is it that you want for yourself?" he asks with a strange glint in his eyes, as Clarice studies him and his interactions with Belle.

Looking away, Belle wavers, "I...I don't know...I'm sure the cost is great. Adding more to it would be selfish of me."

In an exasperated tone, Clarice orders, "Belle, tell him!"

He prances into Belle's line of vision and says "If it is the price that worries you, I already have a price in mind, and it will be the same regardless of any additional stipulations...so you might as well get something out of it for yourself."

Nodding, looking deeply into his eyes, she admits, "It's just that, I'm engaged to be married...and I don't want to be. My betrothed is cruel, and he hurts me."

Rumplestiltskin glares the bruising peaking from beneath her dress and says, "Yes, I see. How would you like him killed? Something quick or drawn out?"

Shocked, Belle puts her hands up, "I...I don't want him killed."

"Don't be too hasty, Belle.", Clarice chimes in, "The world would be better off."

Glaring at her friend, "Clarice, _no!_ I just want to be safe from him. I don't want him killed.", then turning to Rumplestiltskin, she asks, "Can you do it? Can you _please_ protect me from him?"

He smirks, "Of course, I'll do it, for my chosen price...we'll call it a _happy ending special_."

Belle knows it is time to find out the price. She has her suspicions what that price might be. He is a man...and though he is considerably more subtle than Gaston, there is a certain wanting in his eyes that gives him away. She steels herself, hoping she has the courage to make the sacrifice, trying to take comfort in the sense that he will be more kind to her than Gaston. She breathes out stoically, "What is your price?"

_"Here we are..."_, he thinks, "..._just as I've practiced it all day...'I want you to attend to my physical needs and nothing more. I want you to be my concubine.'_", and then he opens his mouth and speaks with a voice oddly human, "I want you to be my wife."

A surprised smile flits across Clarice's face, as Rumplestiltskin and Belle stare at each other, gripped in the cold shock of his words. Barely able to breathe, Rumplestiltskin thinks, _"Oh Gods! What have I done?!"_

* * *

**Author's note: So what did you think of Rumple's deal that managed to be a surprise even to him? Though chapter two should be coming rather soon as I have it mostly written already, I can't promise how regular updates will be thereafter, because I do have my other stories, and some plot bunnies tackled me a few weeks ago, making me start a new very AU Belle, Gold and little Bae fic...so I need to work on that to clear the bunny fluff from my brain. ;-) Please leave a review or comment. I always enjoy reading your thoughts on my stories. Thank you! **


	2. Negotiations

**A HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed and favorited!...16 reviews, 19 followers and 8 favorites for the first chapter really felt good to see, given I was nervous about handling the subject matter and writing Dark One Rumple, as I am more accustomed to writing Mr. Gold or Spinner Rum. **

**Please don't let the big author's note below scare you off of reading this chapter. ****If you want to skip the note, feel free to do so...it is merely there for additional reference if you want it. Don't worry my notes are not typically be that long. I just want to give you some more background, if you want it. **

* * *

**Author's Note: Now that I don't have to worry about spoiling the basic premise, I can give you more information about the characters and story construction: **

**Rumple is, as I view him on OUAT, the guy who is more about emotional attachment than physical. Thus though his dreams have him very aroused, he really isn't a _just sex_ kind of guy. Additionally, though Rumple is a master planner, when his emotions and/or insecurities from those emotions are involved, his planning can go out the window. **

**Belle will be a _bit_ out of character occasionally from OUAT, because she's had more trauma in her home life than ever alluded to in OUAT. Belle has been living in a patriarchal society, where a woman's value is defined by what she can give a man, and sadly, she's experienced personally the disrespect and cruelty of men. So I'm trying to write her in character for her circumstances, which are different from her OUAT circumstances. Rumple is the odd man in such a ****patriarchal** society who values intellect and is actually capable of tenderness...but Belle doesn't fully understand that yet. So both Rumple and Belle will have trust issues to get past. It'll be a two steps forward, one step back kind of thing for a while. 

**Sir Maurice is a superficial social climber. I know a lot of fics have him as King Maurice, though OUAT had him as Sir Maurice, likely because in "Skin Deep" he seemed more regal. As I see it, Maurice's priority is appearance and being something more than he is, and Belle is his means to improve his stature. Indeed even in the Disney's "Beauty and the Beast" though Maurice was a nice guy, who was delightfully kooky, and it was cool that he was an inventor...in my opinion, the inventions were, in part, a means to improve his standing in the world, as evidenced by him being excited at the idea of being a "world famous inventor". Additionally when Belle complained about not fitting in and having no one to talk to, his response was "What about that Gaston? He's a handsome fella." He went straight to the superficial 'handsome' appearance, rather than addressing Belle's need for someone with whom she could have a conversation.**

**Which brings us to Sir Gaston, I am following the predominant 'fic canon' version of Gaston as an ill-tempered brute, since we saw very little of him on OUAT. What we were able to surmise from OUAT is that he was possessive of Belle and more apt to use a sword than his brains...I mean really, pulling a sword twice on the Dark One?...he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. **

**As to Clarice, in "Skin Deep", before agreeing to Rumplestiltskin's deal, Belle specified that her family and friends would live, yet we have never seen any evidence of the aforementioned friends. Thus I gave her some friends; Clarice and her husband, Jeremy. They are the same characters that show up in "We Are All...Reunion of Twin Souls" and will eventually show up in "Metamorphosis Through Love", additionally, RumBelle's 17 year old daughter in "Not Just A Cup" is named after Belle's friend, since Clarice had been an advocate for RumBelle. The name Clarice actually is inspired by "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer", where Clarice was Rudolph's girlfriend and thought he was cute even though, and because, he was different. My Clarice is high-strung and impulsive, whereas Jeremy is the more reserved protector of Clarice and Belle. Jeremy is the all around good 'stand up' guy.**

**Other OUAT characters will make appearances from time to time, but this will mainly be Rumple and Belle. **

**As to the rating, though I read K through M rated fics, T is my writing comfort zone. I have never written an M rated scene, though I've read plenty. I just don't personally feel comfortable with trying it with someone else's characters. If I were writing about the love affair of Clarice and Jeremy, I might try it, because I feel more at liberty to do that with my own characters, but this story is about RumBelle. That said, just because I don't write M rated, doesn't mean there won't be heat. I figure anybody who likes/wants M, knows the basic mechanics of the act, so my love scenes should still give your imagination enough inspiration to take it the rest of the way. If you want to see any example of one of my love scenes, about half way through chapter 16 of "We Are All...Reunion of Twin Souls" /s/9222159/16/We-Are-All-Reunion-of-Twin-Souls should give you a good idea of my love scene writing style.**

**This is written with great respect, love and gratitude for the talents of Robert Carlyle, Emilie de Ravin, all those involved in Once Upon A Time. I do not own the OUAT characters. **

**Okay, so now that you know what kind of story this is, when we last left the ****_dynamic trio_****...Rumple had it all planned to make the deal be that Belle would be his concubine, but then he opened his mouth and said, "I want you to be my wife." Oops! Both Belle and Rumple are shocked...well, actually, Rumple's panicked...and Clarice seems strangely amused and/or happy. So, without further ado, here we go...**

* * *

"Wife?", Belle breathes out.

"You've done worse, Belle. He's a definite improvement over Gaston." says Clarice, as both Rumplestiltskin and Belle notice her conspicuously pondering his leather covered derriere.

Through gritted teeth, Belle reprimands, "Clarice, stop staring!"

Rumplestiltskin's mind spins,_ "Wife? I said, 'wife'! Why the Hell did I do that?!"_ In his heart, he knows the answer, however the thought terrifies him. He has never been a man driven to just have a carnal relationship with a woman, and Belle is like no other woman he has ever met. He wants a life with her. Trying to reign in his unruly thoughts, his mind screams, _"No! I only want sex...physical pleasure and release, nothing more! It was just a slip of my treacherous tongue!"_ Being the Dark One, he is quite aware that he can reset the terms before she agrees to a marriage. He can step away from the cliff and limit them to a strictly physical relationship as he intended, yet his mouth refuses to do so.

He is broken out of his stupor by a gentle hand on his forearm as Belle asks, "Are you alright? You're looking a little...pale...-ish." He stares at her for a moment.

Clarice asks in a hushed tone, "Do Dark Ones get sick?"

"Don't be rude.", Belle scolds.

In a tone that is laced with both worry and amusement, Clarice explains, "I'm just trying to figure out if I should get a bucket or something."

Though Belle has the same thought, she rolls her eyes and says, "Just bring him a chair."

Before he can respond, the two women have each grabbed one of his arms and are guiding him. Rumplestiltskin feels very peculiar receiving physical contact. Seated in the chair, he pulls his arms away from the women, and then with a flourish of his hand and more effort than usually needed to sound casual, he says, "No need to get yourselves in a tizzy, dearies. I'm quite fit."

Kneeling by his chair, Belle looks up at Clarice and requests, "Please go make him some tea."

As he is about to object, Belle quickly shifts her eyes to him, making it clear she wants Clarice out of the room.

Clarice, very aware that something is amiss, commands Rumplestiltskin, "Don't leave before I get back!"

As Belle rubs her forehead, Rumplestiltskin, strangely amused by her audacity, replies, "Wouldn't think of it, dearie."

* * *

Once they are alone, Belle clears her throat, trying to find the courage to ask the question pounding in her brain, "You...uh, weren't going to ask me to be your wife, _were you_?"

His eyes shift ever so slightly, "What makes you think that?"

Belle replies reasonably, "I was surprised by the price, but you seemed catatonic...and you were the one setting the price. Besides, the fact that you just answered my question with a question, seems to confirm that this is not what you had in mind."

He stares lost in her blue eyes, pondering _"How does she have such insight?"_ After a moment, he wraps himself in his typical bravado and remarks with an edge to his voice, "Angling for a better deal, dearie? You may be too good to marry a monster, but I set the price, take it or leave it."

Slightly affronted, yet sincere nonetheless, she says "I wasn't looking to improve my bargain. In fact, I suspect what you really wanted would be less favorable."

"Then why ask? Why give me the perfect opportunity to recant?"

With eyes full of pent up emotion, Belle says earnestly, "I'm tired of dissatisfied men, _always bitter_ at not having what they really want. If you are going to end up resenting me for a marriage you do not want, then I'd rather you present me with the lesser deal. When we summoned you, I knew the price wouldn't be insignificant. Please be honest about what you truly want from me?"

His head swims at the notion of Belle placing his satisfaction with the deal above her own, and he recalls the memories of her interactions with her father and Gaston._ "How did they not see the treasure before them?"_ His misshapen hand reaches to cup her cheek. With a flinch that is barely perceivable, she remains in place. Her eyes are fixed on his. He knows she does not trust him; she also doesn't regard him with the same contempt as most of humanity. His thumb brushes softly, repetitively across her cheek. This connection feels both natural and terrifying to him, as she remains steadfast, self-consciously nibbling her bottom lip.

There is something in Rumplestiltskin's eyes that Belle cannot identify, yet to which she is drawn. It is something she is tempted to call 'tenderness', however she feels that would be sheer folly. Most men she has known are far from tender, _"Why would the Dark One be an exception?"_ But still, his hand on her cheek soothes her. For her to feel comforted by him seems completely illogical, however after the day she has had, she will accept any comfort, logical or not.

"Belle...", it is the first time he speaks her name, and it sounds like a caress. He continues, in a tone etched with the sincerest part of his humanity, "I know precisely what I want from you. I want you to marry me. From the moment that I first saw you, I've known you are an extraordinary woman, and with each moment that passes, you prove me right. I can think of no one else, who I'd want more as my wife."

Though their time together as been fleeting, his words make her eyes shine with tears. Today of all days, she just needs to feel that she matters to _someone_...even a man who is a total stranger to her. Rumplestiltskin is mesmerized by her glistening eyes full of emotion. He desperately wants his feelings to be merely about physical attraction...that thought is becoming further and further out of reach. He feels as though he is sliding into the abyss. Love hurts...that is the one irrefutable truth which he has learned in hundreds of years. He tries to console himself that he is simply lonely and only needing a friend. _"That would explain the emotional attachment!"_, he rationalizes.

Reluctantly pulling his hand away, he forces a formal tone, "Do we have a deal?"

Standing up and straightening her skirt, she says, "If we can agree on the terms of the marriage, yes."

She retrieves two pieces of parchment and two quills and an inkpot to share, and places them on the adjacent table, and then brings a chair over for herself. In truth, they both know she has no other option, than take the deal or let the ogres and Gaston destroy her. Yet Rumplestiltskin wants her to be comfortable with their arrangement. Thus he decides, if she asks for the finest dresses and jewels, that is what she will get.

She says in a reasoned tone, "I suggest we each write specifics about how we want this marriage to be, and we will see if we can come to a meeting of the minds."

Something about the practicality of her approach pleases him. He points out, "You know, dearie, I usually set the terms of my own contracts."

In a no-nonsense tone, she says, "It may be _presumptuous_ of me, but I assume you don't throw marriage proposals at every woman you meet. Our situation is unique and should be handled accordingly."

A broad smile breaks across his face. He never knew he could become this aroused by a woman's words and intellect. He observes a question in her eyes and stares waiting for her to ask.

Looking down, clearing her throat as she begins to put quill to parchment, "Is there a way of knowing, if someone who's gone to fight is still alive?"

Curiously he asks, "To whom are you referring?", wondering if she has a secret love whom he failed to note.

Making eye contact, she answers, "Clarice's husband, Jeremy. The three of us grew up together. He always protected both of us. He's the only good-hearted man I know. I need to know his heart still beats. I keep assuring Clarice he's fine, but I'm not certain myself." She knows that she has told him more than necessary, but if they are to be married, she sees no point in hiding information from him.

"I'll look into the matter.", he states cautiously, and then asks, "Would you want him back in time for the nuptials?"

The hopeful look in her eyes speaks volumes, and before she can voice her answer, he says simply, "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Just as they are about to commence with writing the stipulations of their marriage contract, Clarice can be heard outside the door.

Clarice's declares, "Gaston, you can't go in there...she's entertaining another man. You'll have to come back some other night."

Outraged, Gaston bellows, "_What other man_?!"

Clarice laughs sarcastically, "Oh for goodness sakes, you donkey brained git! There's no other man. It was a _joke_...but you still can't go in!"

Belle mutters, "One of these days, she's going to get herself killed.", as Rumplestiltskin cannot hide his amusement.

Gaston growls, "Get out of my way, _maid_!"

Belle's heart races with worry for her friend. About to go out and confront Gaston herself, she notices Rumplestiltskin flick his wrist and hears a loud thud on the other side of the door. A moment later, Clarice enters with a triumphant grin, holding a tea tray in one hand and a garment bag draped over her arm.

Clarice declares, "Sweet day in the morning! I must not know my own strength. I gave him a shove, and he went down like a sack of flour. He's out _cold!_"

Rumplestiltskin lets out a high pitched giggle, "Seems like you have some real fire power in you, dearie.", then with a thought he transports Gaston's unconscious body to the floor of the local tavern.

With mixed emotions about him using magic on her friend to increase Clarice's strength, yet relieved that she is safe, Belle gives him a sideways glance and mutters, "She's going to be impossible from now on."

Belle spies the garment bag, yet is too focused on the marriage contract to give it much thought. Clarice dutifully hands Rumplestiltskin a cup of tea, saying "I'm glad you stayed.", then sets about making one for Belle and one for herself.

Rumplestiltskin says with rhythmic bravado, "I am a man of my word..._or monster as the case may be_."

Belle frowns, noting this is the second time that he has referred to himself by that word, and she finds she disapproves.

Before Belle can venture to state an opinion, Clarice asks, "And what are we doing now?"

As his eyes pin her, he replies, "_We_ are hammering out the marriage contract.", and then Belle adds, "Yes, and _we_ really should get back to it."

Clarice smirks and sits on Belle's bed, watching the pair intently as they both go about writing. She observes Belle completely focused on the task at hand, while Rumplestiltskin is frequently distracted glancing at Belle in a manner that reminds her of Jeremy when they first began courting. Clarice had noticed from the moment that Rumplestiltskin had appeared something seemed _off_...he was not the dreaded Dark One that she had envisioned, and furthermore, he seemed in awe of Belle. She thinks to herself, _"This might just be the best thing for Belle after all."_

Rumplestiltskin and Belle look awkwardly at each other, and then taking a deep breath, Belle says, "I suggest we take turns stating each of our stipulations for our marriage."

Clasping his hands together, he declares, "Excellent idea. Ladies first."

Looking at her parchment and then Rumplestiltskin, Belle raises her chin, looking him square in the eyes, "I am to be provide proper food and shelter...not sleeping in a barn nor dungeon, and food that is edible...not rotten nor riddled with insects."

He gives her a thoughtful look and says, "I can agree with that, with the exception that you must drink the blood of infants."

Startled and looking as though she may vomit, her hand jerks to the side knocking over the inkpot. As the ink spills across the table, Rumplestiltskin waves his hand and the ink retreats back into the inkpot, which then flips to an upright position.

He smirks, crinkling his nose, "Just a quip.", and then wagging his finger, "Not serious."

Clarice snorts a laugh, while Belle catches her breath willing her heartbeat to slow to a normal pace.

Rumplestiltskin continues, "Of course you will have proper food and shelter. You will be living in my castle, and you may have a feast if you wish it."

"I have no need for a feast; I merely want to ensure reasonable necessities of life are provided.", Belle clarifies.

He nods, and says, "Now then, it is my turn. While you will be provided with your own bedchamber that is designed for comfort, for the first month of our marriage, you must sleep in _my bed_. We need not be involved in amorous activities, but you must at least _sleep_ there."

Belle nods nervously, thinking of sleeping in a bed with a man, and states, "Yes, that seems a reasonable request."

Rumplestiltskin thinks ruefully, _"Reasonable?...I, the Dark One, am being reasonable?...what has my life come to?!"_, and then he says, "I believe it is the lady's turn again."

Belle feels nauseated as she tries to utter the next request, "You cannot sell nor trade, neither me nor my carnal favors."

Feeling a bit affronted at the implication that he would do such a thing, yet having glimpsed Belle's deep distrust off all men, he states, "I don't know what you may have heard about me, _dearie_, but there are certain things even _I_ won't do. You will be my wife and treated as such...besides, I don't like sharing."

Belle feels a twinge of guilt for offending him. There is a possessiveness in him that she typically abhors in men, yet feels strangely comforted by, given his obvious scorn for certain practices that other men would deem acceptable.

Feeling that he must put _some_ parameters on this deal, _he is the Dark One after all_, he says stoically, "Now then, though I have no desire for an unwilling sex partner..." as Belle blushes brightly, he continues with some awkwardness, "...our marriage must be consummated within a year."

Both Belle and Clarice stare in shock, thinking, _"A year?!"_

Clearing his throat, and crossing his fingers under the table, he continues, "If we have not consummated by our first anniversary, we must do so then. This is _not_ negotiable." He knows that if she still doesn't want him by that time, she likely never will, thus he will indeed let her out of that part of her marriage duties.

Clarice gapes, and then grins, viewing Rumplestiltskin's crossed fingers under the table. Amused she thinks, _"Well, I'll be damned! The Dark One is a gentleman...who knew?"_

Belle nods, still astounded that he'd consider waiting a year, and says, "Yes, I understand. Which brings me to my next requirement...I am to be an equal partner in raising our children."...she remembers all too well the marriage contract stipulations regarding children with Gaston, as she continues, "They are not to be sent away...nor reared by stern governesses. They are not to be used as pawns nor to exist merely as replicas of their father. They are to be raised by both of us to have strong and free wills, and a girl is to be valued as much as a boy."

Blankly, he stares thinking, _"Children?...of course, you idiot, children often come from sex!"_ With all his focus on his need for relief from his carnal desires, he simply hadn't thought of children. Of course, there would be ways to prevent pregnancy, yet he is not inclined to use them on Belle, if she wishes otherwise. There are things he could to prevent his own procreation, yet he is hesitant. His focus has been Baelfire, indeed he is not sure that he wants more children, given the mess he already made as a father, and yet as he gazes upon Belle's gentle features and thinks of her kindness and intellect, a yearning to know the children whom she would produce gnaws at his heart. He finds himself enthralled at the thought of a strong willed daughter like Belle. The image provokes a yearning within his heart.

Astounded that this beautiful woman would consider having a child with him, he says in raspy voice, "As you wish." Belle bites her lip and gazes into his eyes.

They are broken out of their spell as Clarice announces, "I've got one! Your first daughter should be named after me!"

"Clarice!", Belle exclaims.

"What?! It was my idea to summon him! I should get _something_ out of it!", Clarice says defiantly, as Belle rolls her eyes, and Rumplestiltskin's forehead crinkles at this sheer audacity of this pint sized tyrant. Clarice huffs, "Oh alright, you can name your children whatever you want. But I want to be able to visit with Belle every now and then..._and that's a reasonable request_."

He smirks at her impressed, and then at Belle, who appears to be holding her breath as she looks at him with hopeful eyes. In occurs to him that those eyes may very well turn him into a blithering idiot one of these days. Looking up at the ceiling, he sighs, "Yes, yes, it can be arranged from time to time...but don't expect it to be a daily occurrence."

Redirecting his attention to the marriage contract, "I believe it's my turn, ladies.", then looking at Belle, feeling a strange churning in his stomach, he musters his courage for the next part, while I will not burden you with my carnal desires for the first year if my attentions are not wanted, other forms of mild affection, including, but not limited to, caressing and kissing are to be allowed. You will accept a minimum of three kisses a day from me, on the place of my choosing, however nowhere unseemly."

Belle feels as though her whole body has gone hot from blush...both at the stipulation and the sight of Clarice in her peripheral vision grinning, clearly holding back an embarrassing comment. Shyly Belle says, "Yes, Rumplestiltskin."

He marvels at how much he enjoys his name spoken in her lilting tone, and then asks, "Are we finished with the contract negotiations?"

Belle nods, "Yes, if you can assure me that all the residents of our town will be safe from the ogres, and that no matter what, you will protect me from Gaston."

"You have my word...I will protect your _little town_, and as you will be my wife, I don't see Gaston being an issue."

Putting a fine point on the details, Belle says, "But if Gaston were to become an issue, whether you foresee it or not, you would protect me, yes?"

"Indeed, I would." he confirms.

"Then we are finished. I will marry you."

He cautions, "It's forever, _dearie_."

Looking at him wryly, she answers, "I expected as much. I will keep my word."

He gracefully flutters his fingers as purple smoke combines the two parchments into one contract to be signed. He feels a tingle of nervous excitement as he signs his name and then watches Belle put quill to contract and sign her name.

Then with giggle like that of a child, he declares, "Now, we must seal this _properly_.", and then his demeanor changes as he cups his hand under Belle's chin and places a soft kiss upon her full lips. It lasts only a moment, yet his heart races like that of a thoroughbred stead after a great chase. Belle is struck by the fact that his warm lips feel pleasant upon hers.

As he pulls away, she softly grabs his wrist and says, "You were wrong, you know."

He looks at her in confusion, and she explains, "You're not a monster. I've met monsters, and I think you're not like them." as she hopes her belief is true.

At a loss for words, he stares at his boots as though something new and interesting has appeared on them. Closing his eyes for a moment, he tries to get his bearings.

Neither takes notice of Clarice walking to the wardrobe with her cup of tea in hand. She removes Belle's outlandishly gaudy wedding dress that Gaston had demanded Belle where for their union. Breaking through the awkward silence between Rumplestiltskin and Belle, Clarice clarifies, "So that's it...you two will be married, right?"

Both turn to look at Clarice, speaking in unison, "Yes."

A huge cheek splitting grin beams across Clarice's face, she exclaims "Wonderful!", lifting her tea cup to toast the new couple, "à votre santé", then she pours her tea on the atrocity to dress makers.

"Clarice!" Belle squeals, then stares in blank shock. Taking advantage of Belle's stupor, Clarice quickly moves next to Rumplestiltskin and whispers, "Meet me outside before you leave." Unsure of how to react to the scene before him, he nods dazedly.

Though Belle despised the dress, she is still shocked to see it defaced. This act is outrageous even by Clarice standards. Clarice, taking a tone of false innocence, says, "Belle, you have other more beautiful gowns to choose from for your wedding to Rumplestiltskin...but if this one means so much to you," and walks over to the tea stained gown, "...I'm certain we can fix it."

As Belle is about to question, 'how?', she hears a loud ripping sound, and Clarice exclaims, "Oh dear! Poorly stitched seams!" At that moment, Rumplestiltskin burst into raucous laughter...genuine belly shaking, tear spilling laughter.

"Stop laughing...", Belle says snickering through her words, "...you're only encouraging her.", as her body shakes trying to hold in the guffaw.

Barely able to compose himself to speak, he counters, "Fine words...from...someone who...looks like...she's having...convulsions.", and the giving up the pretense they both roar. Quite pleased with herself, Clarice watches the pair unite in unrestrained chortling.

Later after they come back to their senses, they devise a plan of action for tomorrow to make the event appear spontaneous. He will declare his price to be her hand in marriage, and she will not agree immediately, rather waiting for him to begin to leave. Having their plan in place, he bids Belle farewell with a kiss on her palm.

* * *

Meeting Clarice outside in the cove adjacent to the servants quarters, he notice she once again is holding a garment bag. Eying her curiously, Rumplestiltskin says, "Tell me, dearie, what is your need for a clandestine meeting, with what appears to be your laundry?"

Tilting her head, she says in a somewhat demanding tone, "I'll get to that in a moment, but first there's something you need to know", stepping close to him and standing on her tip toes, she peers up at him with a no-nonsense glare, as she states unequivocally"...you need to know, if you _ev-er_ hurt her, I don't care who you are...I will find you, and when I'm done, your voice will be _much_ higher."

Most people would be squished under his boot as a result of such a threat, yet he admires her loyalty, thus he nods solemnly and says, "I understand. I will not harm Belle."

With a satisfied smile, she says, "Good. Now, I need some help with this." pulling from the bag a white silk and chiffon wedding gown, as she explains, "This is my wedding dress. Belle practically tied herself in knots finding the fabric so that I would have something special, and we worked together making it. I know she would love to wear it, but she's much taller than me, and well...", looking down at her ample bosom, then back at Rumplestiltskin, making him a bit uncomfortable, "I'm bigger than her up top...but I suppose you could make this fit Belle just right."

He smiles softly at her, and asks, "Why are you doing this? She is marrying the Dark One."

Clarice states simply, "She's my dearest friend...more than a friend, more like a sister, and I want this to be special for her.", and then with a knowing smile she adds, "Besides, I saw you cross your fingers. Despite the stories, I know with Belle, you'll be a gentleman, because she's already special to you too."

He fights the impulse to make a snide comment to negate her words, instead nodding and saying sincerely, "Indeed, she is.", and his hand glides across the dress transforming it. He adds, "There. That should fit _our_ Belle as though it were made for her. Now I must take my life..._tomorrow's a big day!_"

Clarice smiles, "Thank you. Good night, Rumplestiltskin."

He bows and says, "Good night, Clarice.", and vanishes into the evening fog.

* * *

**A short author's note: The toast "à votre santé" means "to your health". Ideally, a woman's father will have the "If you make my daughter cry, I'll make you cry." talk with the boyfriend or betrothed, but since Belle doesn't have that kind of father, I decided Clarice should fill that role by threatening to hunt Rumplestiltskin down and making his voice much higher if he hurts Belle. Please leave a review/comment...guest reviews are fine, so you don't need a FFnet account to review...I appreciate the feedback either way. Can't wait until Sunday and "Dark Hollow"! #BelleIsBack**

**We're trending #BelleIsBack on Twitter everyday until Sunday. Yesterday, #RumbelleArmy twice got #BelleIsBack on WTT (What the Trend). We can make it everyday. Join the rallies everyday until Sunday!  
POWER HOURS:  
14:00 CST  
21:00 EUROPE  
18:00 Brazil**


End file.
